


Coffee, Pastries and a Perfect Shot

by RegalKn1ght



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F, Multi, i love these witches and i love cafes, short drabble...well medium length?? i don't know what measures as short for fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalKn1ght/pseuds/RegalKn1ght
Summary: Akko goes out and grabs some sweet pastries for her fiances!
Relationships: Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari/Sucy Manbavaran
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Coffee, Pastries and a Perfect Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This was originally posted to my Tumblr https://regalkn1ght.tumblr.com/post/615304512476954624/coffee-pastries-and-a-perfect-shot and I decided to post it to here, as well! There's no specific timeline, just around three years after the girls graduated from Luna Nova and a month after Akko popped the question. 
> 
> Akko has a side hobby as an amateur photographer, cause I thought it'd be neat. Obviously I'm not the first to think of this idea - people have already wrote beautiful stories and I would highly suggest them! 
> 
> Any mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

The door at the cafe dings from the bell hanging from the loop, Akko steps into the warm store and nears toward the counter. A few people are already in line, a man in a business suit with his phone against his ear, an elderly man with a pronounced limp and a silver cane, a woman in a black trench coat and a few scraggly teenagers.

Akko lets out a sigh and tuck her hands into her pockets, her leg bounces up and down as she peers over the line to estimate the pace in which this man is relaying his order. _He could probably be faster if he weren’t yapping at someone,_ she muses with a bitter scowl. Gods, she needed her coffee. 

She glances around at the dark leather booths and mahogany tables and then back to the counter – eyes lingering at the displays of mouth-watering pastries fresh out of the oven. She takes in a deep breath, the rich aroma of coffee grounding into brittle heaps of grinds, and the scent of buttery, melting frosting on decadent deserts qualms her early bout of grumpiness.

For a few minutes she contents herself with looking out the window, open wide panes with a warm grey drape. The sidewalk of Blytonbury was rather more desolate than usual – devoid of the clattering of steps and the pops of local magic shows. The sun was casting its ethereal glow on the warm, cragged pavement; bathing everything in a deep light orange, that practically stole the breath from the brunette’s lungs. 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes out, ignoring the look of a passerby. It’s not her fault if someone can’t take a second to appreciate a view this amazing – it was practically _picturesque!_ Akko’s tongue darts out and she fiddles with the strap around her neck and raises her camera to her face. Her fingers fiddle with the dials and knobs around the sides, zooming in and adjusting the image, almost absentmindedly; mechanically. Her breath stagnates and she takes the few extra seconds, to properly line up the shot – until she’s proud and pleased with the angle and clicks the button with her index finger. 

Her mouth curves into a wide grin, as she lowers her camera down to her chest. She hums softly under her breath and raises her brow at the gentle buzzing in her pocket. _All Star_ rings out across the cafe. A slight flush paint her cheeks as she digs into her pocket, and with a glance to the ID her previous embarrassment dries out to exuberance. 

Diana’s stern-brow expression was lessened in its effect, due to Sucy resting her cheek on her shoulder. Wry amusement flickers in a ruby eye as an exasperated fondness highlights blue.

Akko answers after the first ring, “Hey baby!” 

“Where are you?” Diana asks immediately…accused is more accurate now that she thinks about it. Akko chuckles softly as she rocks her ankle back and forth. 

“What? I don’t get a hello?” She drawls out with a pout, eyes shining with unabashed mirth. She can practically see the air that her fiancee draws out from her sigh, her teeth dig into her lower lip to tamper down her amused grin. 

“You’ve forfeited your hello the moment you left the bed and took all the warmth away. Sucy’s cold feet is _driving_ me insane,” A second passes, and Akko can vaguely make out the hoarse drone of her other fiance's voice, “No, Sucy – will you _please,_ stop putting your cold feet into my legs?” 

Akko’s pretty sure she looks stupid right now, with her idiotic wide grin that was taking up half of her face, but she couldn’t help it! Not when she can clearly hear Diana’s whines of discomfort, that were only drawn out in the early mornings, (because despite what the world may think, the blonde is _not_ a morning person.) She hears the sharp, piercing, cackle of Sucy’s amusement and feels a warm chortle of her own slip out. 

“Hey, come on, Suce.” Akko starts with a somber voice, her lips threatening to give away to her mirth. “We promised we wouldn’t torment our fiancee _that_ much.” Akko teases, eyes burning brighter at the exasperated scoff that passes through surely, tightly pursed lips.

Sucy’s hum of noncommittal agreement fills her ear, and she truly, _sincerely_ tries to fight back the smirk that settles against her lips, at the low drawl out words of, “Some promises are meant to be broken.”

“You both are incorrigible,” Diana states bluntly and Akko can _practically_ hear the frown in her voice. She chuckles along with Sucy. “Is it too late to return the ring?” The blonde’s question was quickly cut off with an offended gasp, no doubt from an attack to her fiancee's weak spot near her clavicle. 

“Yeah, sorry Daffodil,” Sucy says, not sounding apologetic at all. “Guess you’re stuck with us.” 

Akko’s grin threatens to split off her face, warmth pools into her heart and makes it skip a beat. There’s something great, about those words – us, them, ours. “I mean, really? Do you think you can do better than us?” She drawls out in a dry tone – teasing and completely false. She knows that both her fiancees could do better, but for some beautiful, inexplicable reason they both chose her. 

“I don’t know,” Diana starts, her voice light and high, the exact tell to when she’s trying to hold back her laughter. “I feel like I could always give Amanda a call. If this doesn’t work out and the inevitable happens,” she says sweetly, honey practically dripping from her words alone. 

“And what, _pray tell,_ is this inevitability?” Akko’s voice pitches in her impersonation, making sure each syllable is exaggerated and drawn out. She hears Sucy’s cackle being muffled by the amused cry of her name. 

“That we drive each other insane to commit manslaughter?” Sucy manages out, behind the snicker that passes her lips. 

Akko holds in her breath, to try not to shatter every glass inside the cafe from her boisterous laughter that threatens to erupt. She instead gouges her teeth into her lip and listens to the snort that escapes the blonde. 

“Yes, _exactly._ You’ve taken the words right from my mouth, darling.” Diana coos, exasperation lacing every vowel. She hears the sound of lips finding each other, the muffled complaint from her mauve haired lover, and the low hum from her blonde lover. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Save it for when I get back,” Akko whines, not minding for a second. It’s all for the façade. For the dramatics of it all. 

She taps her fingers against her thigh, her brows pinching together at the exceeding noises that echo from the other side. Akko shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “These horny bitches,” she mutters under her breath. So stupidly fond.

She waits patiently for a few seconds, and then another few, and then another – and then her patience snaps like a brittle piece of lead. She cries out, “Hey! Stop sucking each other’s faces! And tell me if you want your usual…please.” She adds with an annoyed grumble, shaking her head.

She hears the sharp gasp that was drawn out from the blonde and the breathy moan of, “U-usual,” and Sucy’s growl of, “Strawberry – _fucking_ \- macaron and pickled plum tea.” 

Then she hears the dial click. She lowers her phone and stares at it – in betrayal and annoyance. She darts her gaze up and lets out a long, frustrating groan from the bottom of her stomach, at the sight of the old man limping toward the counter. 

Gods. What she does for love.


End file.
